


Down in the Courtyard the Little Dove Coos

by orphan_account



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Au - With powers modified slightly, Au - medieval setting, Charles is a Prince, Charles tries to woo, Erik doesn't really bite, Erik is a blacksmith, I don't, Kurt and Cain are bad bad people, M/M, Made up kingdom, Mildly Dubious Consent, This came from my brain, Who knows how long this will be?, made up world, underaged
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-06 09:08:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1852438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The King of the West Sector is dying, the Queen is lost in her cups. The North is looking for new lands and new conquests, The East for stronger allies, while the South enjoys prosperous incomes and fair weather. Can Prince Charles hold his land, become the man his lords and ladies need to be - all the while staying sane from threats and abuse?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I have urges to write things, this is one of them. All I have to say is that I hope you guys enjoy my first few set up chapters, and that this is my first Cherik fanfic so please go easy on me! ^^; I love feedback, so tell me what you love and what-not!

The courtyard was quiet, the sun was just beginning to warm the stones of the street as the shops began to setup and start harking about their wares. Peasants walked by with heads hung low, either overburdened by packs on their backs or not wanting to chance meeting the eye of some lordling or knight strapping for a fight. Erik squinted, the early dawn light reflecting off of his metal work, casting an array of lights against the walls and ceiling of his smithery, as well as much to his displeasure, his face. 

When it came to smithing none was better than Erik, he could make the metal sing without even bringing a hammer to it. Ever since he honned his Talent, he hardly had to use any of the tools the other smiths did. He prided himself with it really, his metal was more pure, less flaws meant less deaths and less deaths meant better business. Better business meant more gold, more gold meant a happy Erik. All in all it was a circle of good, there was hardly a customer that denied Erik's prowess in the field, of course there hardly was a customer that would. At least not when the burly sword-for-hire named Logan was normally seen sulking about his wares. Erik wasn't too troubled about it, he didn't mind Logan's company they had ample things to talk about, Logan kept the outlaws away and he always bought Erik an ale at the end of the day. For whatever reason Erik couldn't comprehend, but he was never one to turn down offered drinks.

Though it was still the morning and it would hardly do to start drinking now, though he was tempted to, when the King's men oozed out of brothels and barracks alike. Heralds sprung to duty once the streets were more lively, baying on about events happening in this area or the next, that the King is ill and the Prince's sixteenth name-day is arriving and the King is commissioning smiths all across the Western Sector to create the finest crown for the Prince. All boring things really, though when the herald cried out the price of the commission Erik froze, Logan - who had taken to sleeping by the bellows - groaned and sat up.

"Did I hear 'em proper?" He rubbed at a bleary eye.

"You did." Erik breathed, his eyes widening slightly, a hefty sum such as that would allow him to move his smithery to a better neighbourhood, one where knights frequented more than peasant farmers.

Logan groaned and stood, flexing his muscles he looked at Erik with a raised eyebrow. "You'er going to do it aren't you?" He mused, a kind of sly amile forming in his lips. "A wealthy smith like that needs a sword at hand, and I am-" 

"The best at what you do, yes, yes Logan." Erik smirked. "I have heard your many drunken rants." He chuckled at the others expression, humming slightly when the sellsword mumbled something about not ranting when he was drunk.

With the news from the herald to set him up for a good day, he went about tidying the smithy, giving Logan some coins he sent him on his way to buy more coal for the furnace. As the sellsword was leaving Erik's attention was dragged more towards the center of the square, eyes narrowing slightly he watched a row of city guards marching towards him. Scowling slightly he turned and put what coal was left in his stores onto the embers. Using his poker to stir them about he looked over his shoulders and frowned at the three guards standing at his counters.

"Are you Erik Lensherr?" The least stupid-looking one asked.

"Yes, what can I do for you?" He snapped, frowning when one of them parted only to blink when a rather handsome boy stepped forward.

"Oh good!" The boy grinned at him, looking at him as if he was a knight in armour. "I have been looking all over the city for you!"

"Er..."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little interesting, Charles gets a little interested, and Erik starts to be of everyone's interest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes good, another chapter, this one is from Charles' POV as the other was from Erik's. I find it will be easier to have the planned story flow if I do it this way. But it wont be a pattern like Charles, Erik, Charles, Erik. I will however make the beginning obvious to who's POV it is. Everything is still hunky-dorie so you don't have to worry about those nasty chapter tags right now, or for a while actually. Once again tell me what you like, what you don't, and what I can do to make this better. Tah!

Charles blinked, turning to look at his guards he furrowed his eyebrows, gaze moving to the captain of his guard as he approached he pouted slightly.

" _Hank, I don't think this is him..._ " He frowned further when the disappointment was obvious as he met minds with one of his closest friends. Looking back at the maybe-Erik he tipped his head studying him as Hank frowned slightly, or the best he could manage being mostly animal. _"Hank don't be blue._ Charles smiled at him slightly and put a hand on his shoulder.

While this mental exchange happened Erik had jumped at tge sight of Hank, his initial surprise catching Charles' attention and bringing his gaze back to the smith. " _Are_ you Erik Lensherr?" Charles raised his eyebrow, leaning on the counter and going up on his toes to meet the man's gaze. "I really do need to know, it is a bit important. " He flashed him a grin, eyes twinkling with mischief. 

"How important?" The maybe-Erik raised a brow at him, causing the prince to puff his chest slightly. "Because if this Erik Lensherr is in trouble I am not him." The smith set his jaw, a kind os steely pout formed on his lips.

"And if Erik is not in trouble...?" Charles grinned, his whole body seeming to light up with the excited energy. "If this Erik Lensherr is quite the opposite of 'in trouble' would you be him?" He hummed. "Or shall I call you Maybe-Erik in my head for the rest of this conversation? " He smirked slightly, making the maybe-Erik huff and a somewhat soft expression form on his face. Wait.. had that been a laugh? Charles grinned, lifting himself he sat upon the counter, watching maybe-Erik's eyes snap from his legs to his face. _"Poo what a proper man."_ He looked at Hank over his shoulder in time to catch the roll of his eyes.

"The opposite of in trouble.." maybe-Erik murmured, moving to turn and stir coals that had started to burn. "How much is this Erik fellow.. Not in trouble?" He looked at Charles over his shoulder with a slightly wolfish grin and Charles would be damned if that didn't make his heart jump. 

_"Charles be careful..."_ Hank's voice echoed in his head. _"He looks dangerous."_ Charles looked at Hank with a raised eyebrow. Smirking slightly he began to swing one of his legs.

_"I know._ He practically purred, making Hank's cheeks darken some. "Well." He sighed allowed, looking at the maybe-Erik. "This 'Erik fellow' as you so call him, is in so littpe trouble, that I am personally inviting him to dine with myself tonight." He hummed a smug expression on his face. "And if you would be so kind to pass that onto him - since I can assume you know him, I would be very grateful."

Charles hopped off the counter, wiping his hands free of the soot he cated not for his clothes. "You have a fine day, maybe-Erik." He beamed, turning to walk through the guards and the crowd that had gathered before mounting his steed. "Perhaps I will see you at dinner then?" He winked with a smirk, turning his horse's head and trotting along the road, his guard having formed up around him in the time being. 


End file.
